M.E.M.

Rothko Chapel Painting

Stormy sky

rain pounding down,

coming in heavy sheets.

A break from the torrent comes

but with this pause comes the onset of fog.

Sticky and muggy air.

The sky becomes bruised,

beat up by the gods high above.

They will never be satisfied.

The day comes to a close,

the gods sleep soundly. 

A new day appears,

repeating a cycle of anger and hatred.

Rain

Fog

Bruised

This time it can take no more.

Holding on by a single thread,

the sky takes a breath.

Remembering the happy days, 

then… dies.

Nothing,

except space

that the sky one took over was left behind.